Reach For Me
by Emmithar
Summary: When Greg becomes injured at a crime scene, he feels the best method is to hide that injury. But can his decision cause more harm than good?
1. Chapter 1

**Reach For Me**

**By: Emmithar**

**Rating: T**

**Summary: When Greg becomes injured at a crime scene, he feels the best method is to hide that injury. But can his decision cause more harm than good?**

**Disclaimer: Have never owned, will never own unless a miracle happens. Just borrowing them for now, will return them, eventually**

* * *

**Chapter One: All That I Want**

Greg did his best to stifle a yawn as he leaned his head against the car window, staring blankly at the houses that passed by. It wasn't that he was tired, more that he was bored. His gaze shifted towards the front seat, as he stared with envy. Just because he was the newbie didn't mean he had to sit in back, did it?

He sighed, frowning as he shifted his legs. There wasn't a lot of room to work with, and his legs were already starting to cramp.

"We're almost there," Sara reassured him, turning to glance over her shoulder. Greg managed to give her a quick grin, but it faded quickly as he gazed back out the window. It wasn't the first time she had said it, and Greg knew better than to get his hopes up. Besides, he could live with the lack of space…the lack of sound was a different issue altogether. No one was talking, and Warrick refused to turn the radio on.

Greg's argument of finding something the trio could listen to fell short when Warrick stated the driver controlled the radio. Tonight, he wanted it off. Apparently the driver also got to control conversations as well, the only words that were passed were from Sara, and even then they were short.

Being in the field was quite different than he had imagined. He was now dependent on others, rather than before where others had come to him to find answers. Not that he really minded the change, that was. He loved the work, the challenge…but he did miss not being able to listen to his music when he wished too.

Leaning his head against the window he let his eyes slid close, crossing his arms over his chest. He had passed his proficiency test just over a month ago. Even with everything he had already learned, Greg knew there was still a lot more he had yet to come across; he was looking forward to it. The only complaint he really had was how often he was moved around.

He knew everyone worked together, no one was paired up with the same person for long; it gave the team flexibility, and respite as well. For instance, Greg knew that Sara did not work well with Catherine. They could, if needed, but the two women often clashed, their opinions varying greatly. Usually he didn't take sides, or tried not too, but in this case he had to side with Sara. Sometimes Catherine was out of line, and she had a stronger stand in the simple sense she had been here longer. Grissom's faith in her didn't exactly pull her down either.

So in the end, he was in no right to complain, so he kept his thoughts to himself, happy enough to be able to work out in the field. Tonight was a plus…he working with Sara. Of course, he had been working with Sara the most; she had become sort of a mentor to him. Grissom had been very committed at first in teaching him the ropes, but Sara's interest in his progress led to the eventual shift. Greg would never mention it out loud, but he was glad.

Grissom didn't talk very much, and he was even harder to converse with. He liked to observe instead, keeping a keen eye on his movements, his actions, constantly questioning his motives. Sara, on the other hand, let him do more thinking on his own part. She let him guess, correcting him when he was wrong and encouraging him when he was on the right track. Of course those weren't the only reasons he enjoyed having Sara as a mentor, but those he wouldn't even acknowledge in his own mind.

His eyes opened briefly, blinking as he glanced out the window. They had come to a stop, and Greg had to stifle another yawn as he pushed himself up. He must have fallen asleep, and his thoughts were confirmed when Sara opened the door adjacent to him, pulling out her case.

"Wake up Sleeping Beauty," she was grinning at him, moving to pull her vest on as she did so.

Greg didn't respond at first, glancing back out the window. He could make Warrick out in the distance; he was already talking with several officers. Leave it to him to take action quickly. Greg ran a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I asleep?"

Sara shrugged her shoulders, nodding to him as she closed the door. She met him around the other side, Greg working to get his own vest on. "About twenty minutes," she answered, her eyes tracing the scene that lay before them.

"And you kept telling me we were almost there," he pouted, taking a moment to stretch to add emphasis to his words.

She laughed, shaking her head but that was the only response, the pair becoming serious as they approached the on scene officer. Greg had seen him a few times before, but not enough to really know him. Officer James, if he remembered right.

"One DB, female, Caucasian, late twenties, early thirties. We're waiting on a coroner to get here," he stated in a greeting, repeating what he had already said to Warrick. Greg watched the older man walk into the open field, his flashlight lighting what little area it could. Above the skies were clouding over, they would get even less help there. They would have to work quickly; hopefully the rain would hold off long enough.

"Who called the body in?" Sara asked, pulling out a pad, jotting several notes down quickly. Greg turned his attention back to the conversation at hand, studying the officer as he spoke.

Sara had once told him that you could tell when a person was lying, or holding something back. Watch their eyes, their hands…their stance. Someone who was fabricating a story often was tense, unable to relax. The officer however was at ease, his voice confident as he answered.

"I did actually, this is my route, and this place has been abandoned for the past few months now."

"This place?" Greg took the opportunity to speak up, his attention back on the felid behind him.

"Construction site, behind the tree line. Supposed to be a housing development I guess, but rumor has it the building permit fell through, owner had to cease development. That's what tipped me off the first time, the overhead lights were on," he turned pointing over the isolated trees. There a soft glow could be seen, and Greg nodded, somewhat surprised he had not seen it earlier.

"Did you touch anything, move anything at all?" Sara picked the conversation back up once she had caught up with the notes.

He didn't answer straight away, but shook his head once he had thought. "Not that I can remember," he shrugged. "I don't have anything else for you guys."

Sara nodded, sliding the small pad back into her pocket, clipping it shut. "Thanks, we'll be in touch if we need more."

Greg turned to Sara as the officer left, waiting for her next move. "Your call," he offered, swinging one hand to the side.

"Let's get to work," she chirped quietly, crossing her arms. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

* * *

The first drop of rain had fallen as Greg sealed the last evidence bag. He turned his head upwards, regretting it as a drop nailed him in the eye. Muttering a curse under his breath he moved to collect the handful of bags, making his way back towards the others. Twelve hours they had been here, and at last they were nearing the end. He had to resist the urge to laugh, a deep, bitter laugh. This was only the start. They would head back to the lab once they finished here, and start again; stopping long enough to grab a quick bite to eat, a short rest…he was really missing his bed at the moment.

Warrick had already requested an extra hand, but it had gone unanswered. Days were too busy with their own cases, and Grissom couldn't spare anyone at the moment. From there he had taken it upon himself to divide the field into three quarters. It was no surprise Warrick gave him the section in the open field. Finding anything had been near impossible, there was little evidence that was relevant, but he had bagged everything.

It made it even harder, searching for trace evidence in uncut grass in the middle of the night with nothing but a flashlight. Finding a needle in haystack would have been easier. Sara met him halfway there, pulling her gloves off as she let out a sigh.

"Long night," she muttered, running her fingers through her loose hair. Greg especially liked it when she wore it down, liked it even more when the wind caught it. He shook his head quickly, clearing his mind as he realized she had started talking again. He only caught the last few words, but the question was clear enough to understand.

"Nothing really," he admitted, holding up the evidence bags. "But with the lighting I could have missed something."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste as a raindrop hit her cheek, trailing down to her chin. "You smell that?"

Greg nodded, knowing what she was referring too. It wasn't the first time; he had come across it a few hours ago. It was the strongest around here, the source couldn't be too far from here, yet Greg had not crossed it during his search. "Sewage…"

"There are no major developments out here, and the houses don't even come near here…what's a sewage drain doing way out here?" she questioned lightly.

"I was thinking more along the line of a constipated cow finally letting loose," Greg joked lightly, clearing his throat as his tone became more serious. "A sewage line would work too…"

It was as if Sara hadn't even heard him, following the beam of her flashlight as she walked forward slowly. Greg fell into step behind her, making a face as the smell became stronger. There was only one thing that could smell that bad.

"Looks like our vic had a friend," Sara stated smugly, her light resting on the mangled form. The body was resting half in and half out of a hole, clearly obvious it had been here for a while.

"I didn't see it," Greg offered up, feeling guilty at what he could have missed. Sara stopped him quickly though, shaking her head. He set the evidence bags down, pulling his camera up, snapping several shots.

"It was in my section," Sara told him, "I didn't come over this far, I was looking more at the road for possible tire treads. I'm having a hard time believing that this is relevant to our first db…by the looks he or she's been here for at least three weeks…"

"I'll get the coroner," Greg stated quietly, already heading back across the field.

* * *

It was amazing how quickly Warrick had wrapped up his evidence, when he had heard about the second db. It was even less amazing that Greg found himself once again on the back burner. He watched from a few steps away as Warrick and Sara collected the evidence, doing his best to listen, but losing interest as things went along. Sara at least acknowledge him, Warrick was indifferent.

It seemed as though he was trying, yet failing miserably, to include Greg in the investigation. This was only the second time he had worked with Warrick since his proficiency and he was beginning to like it less and less.

The body had already been picked up, leaving them the task of collecting the bodily fluids that had leaked from the corpse as it was pulled free of the hole. Greg edged forward a few paces, holding his flashlight at eye level as he peered down.

"There's trace down there," he commented, using the moment to move even closer. He was shoulder to shoulder with Sara now, crouching down to get a better perspective. Sara had leaned over, one hand balancing herself as she gazed down.

"Good find," she gave him a brief smile, pushing her hair from her eyes as she sat up. The rain had continued, but it had stayed light, something they could use in their favor.

Greg shrugged it off easily, but he felt proud at the same time. It made it even better when Warrick commented on his find as well. Turning back Greg couldn't help but smile as held his flashlight up. "So, who gets to go down the creepy hole?"

"Well, we could call some cadets, but it would take them a few hours to even get out here, and we may loose everything by then…it'll have to be one of us…we need someone small," Warrick offered up, closing his own evidence bag.

"Someone skinny," Greg added on, turning to glance to his left. Warrick had done the same, both their gazes landing on the brunette that was crouched between them.

"Someone who won't mind getting a little dirty…"

The smirk almost went unnoticed as she let out a wry laugh. "Alright, I'll go." Sara stood up, muttering under her breath as she sprinted across the field. It wasn't long before she returned, holding the harness and ropes. They always kept a set in the back of all the vehicles, in case they should need to use them.

Warrick helped into the harness as Greg set the ropes up, slightly envying the older man for having to be so close to her. Greg would have gladly traded places with him, helping to tighten the straps, make sure she was secure…maybe one of his hands would accidentally slip? Greg grinned as he hooked up the last rope. They weren't exactly work appropriate thoughts, but then again he could only restrain himself so much.

"You have that headset on Greg?" Warrick asked, checking one final time to make certain everything was tight.

Greg nodded, pulling the small headset off his shoulders to rest on his head, pulling the small microphone in front of his mouth. "Earth to Sidle, this is the Father Ship calling you, do you read?"

"Loud and clear alien boy," Sara smirked back, pulling her own helmet on. She had changed into a jumpsuit, a faint attempt to keep her somewhat clean. Warrick only shook his head as he followed Sara over to the hole, lending her a helping hand as she moved to her hands and feet.

"Remember, if you feel uncomfortable at all, just let us know, we'll get you out of there."

She nodded, scowling. "I'm not claustrophobic," she reminded him lightly, already disappearing down the hole.

Greg pulled back on the ropes, shifting his own weight as she descended further, doing his best to keep himself balanced. Once situated he let the line out slowly, little by little.

"Not too fast now," Warrick reminded him, coming up to his side. "She'll tell you when she's found something."

Greg nodded, slowing his pace only slightly. "How do we know what we're looking for?"

"We don't," Warrick shrugged his shoulders, "That's half the fun. I'm going to catch up with Brass, he just arrived. Give me a call if you need help."

Greg watched him leave, turning his attention back to Sara. She had gone a few good feet down the hole now, and so far there was no response. "You doing okay?"

"Fine," her answered was delayed, but clear enough. "It's pretty empty down here, nothing on the walls…"

"How wide is it? You have enough room?"

"I can tell you what a sardine feels like," her response was laced with humor, earning a chuckle from Greg. "I could go with a little more room, but I'm fitting easily enough."

"I thought you weren't claustrophobic," Greg teased her, moving back a step when his foot began to sink in the mud.

"Just don't tell Warrick."

He grinned, glancing over his shoulder at the other man. If it were possible, the night was getting darker, and visibility was dropping. He had an eerie feeling that it wouldn't be long until the rain really did let loose. They were pushing it by far at this point in time.

There were a number of things that could have happened, but he wasn't prepared for this. Greg wasn't sure what had happened, one moment he had been standing, and the next he was being pulled off his feet, landing flat on his stomach. The breath he drew in though with great force didn't seem like it was enough, and the panicked feeling was overridden as several of the evidence bags toppled over the edge, disappearing from sight.

He couldn't even catch his breath to shout a warning to Sara, but that was the least of his worries, the rope was still spiraling down quickly, a sure indication that Sara was falling as well. Greg reached out with one hand quickly, grabbing the descending rope, wrapping it around his hand once for a better grip, already reaching out with the other. Before he could the rope came to a grinding halt, wrenching down on his outstretched arm, a sharp snap filling the air as he managed to get his fingers around the rope again.

Greg winced as the pain ran up his arm, dropping his head as he tried to regain his breath. He was shaking by this time, holding onto the rope but slowly losing his grip. He tried calling out to Sara, but she wasn't answering back on the headset, and worry was starting to set in. Before he could act further there was another set of hands, grasping the rope in front of him, and another helping to pull him back.

Warrick was working quickly to pull Sara back up, who could now be heard down the hole. Her voice was shaky, but she assured them she was okay. Both Warrick and Greg worked the rope through their hands, Greg standing a few good paces behind Warrick to help keep the line from slipping back. The pain was already wearing off, but a strange numbness had settled in his limb, making it difficult to grasp the rope with the one hand.

He pushed it aside, watching as Brass reached down, grabbing a hold of her harness, hauling her out of the hole. She half crawled, half stumbled out, dropping just outside to roll over onto her back.

"You okay?" Warrick asked, kneeling down next to her. Greg had dropped the rope, letting out a long sigh as she gave him a thumbs up.

"What happened?" Warrick had turned on him suddenly, catching the younger man off guard.

"I…I don't know," Greg stammered, holding his hands out his side as he shrugged. "I just…the line gave out or something…"

"You were supposed to get me if something wasn't working. Don't you realize the danger you put Sara in? Not to mention the evidence we lost," Warrick continued, turning back towards the small pile.

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Greg was quick to defend himself, but Warrick was quicker.

"You could have hurt Sara, maybe even have killed her. You're very lucky on that aspect. Not only that, but now we have to pay for professionals, and wait for them to get out of here, when we could be getting ready to leave now. You better hope those bags were sealed tightly or everything's contaminated…"

"Warrick," Sara breathed, sitting up. She was still shaking slightly, but Brass had a firm hold on her arm as she pushed herself to her feet. "Lay off, no one was hurt. It was an accident."

Greg bit his lip as he looked away, not caring to be judged such as this. No one was willing to let him tell his side of the story, Warrick only argued that it was his fault, and Sara supported his innocence, all without asking him. He folded his arms against his chest as Warrick started to walk off, the older man giving him a look of resentment. He turned back as Sara placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Get what's left," she told him quietly, "I'll talk to Warrick. He's in a bad mood tonight, so don't take it personally."

Greg only nodded, but he felt numb inside. Now he was letting a girl fight his battles…not that he was trying to downgrade Sara at all. It just didn't seem fair…he let out a sigh, bending over to pick up the few scattered bags, wincing as he dropped several. His left arm wasn't working the way he wanted, wasn't responding very well. He took a moment, opening and closing his fingers several times.

It wasn't surprising…he had put quite a bit of weight on it at once…surely it would be better by morning. He wondered dimly if he should tell someone, those thoughts being diminished quickly as he could hear Warrick's irate voice as he argued with Sara. Greg shook his head. If he said something, Warrick would only find some way to twist it against him, saying something such as that he was trying to find sympathy. No…it was better to keep quiet about it…after all, Sara was okay, and that's all that really mattered.

**TBC**


	2. Falling

**Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are great, as always**

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**Chapter Two: Falling**

"I heard you had some trouble at your crime scene," Ecklie stated in introduction as he walked into the room. Greg winced, but didn't answer as he pulled another bag out from the collection bin. Next to him Sara glanced up, moving to answer.

"We uh…we lost some evidence, the cadets were never able to find a couple of the bags. They weren't gentle collecting them either," she let out a sigh, holding a gloved hand out that was covered in scattered fragments. "We lost the swabs, with the contamination it's near impossible to tell what's relevant and what's not."

Greg remained silent as Sara continued, logging in what little evidence they had left. They would be lucky to get anything off of this case, thanks to him.

"How did it happen?"

This was the part Greg had been dreading, and he shifted uncomfortably when silence passed through the room. Clearing his throat he looked up, keeping his voice low, but clearly obvious. "It was my fault," he started, but was cut off quickly by Sara.

"It was no one's fault," she said sternly, turning to look at him before trading glances with Ecklie. "It was an accident."

The older man nodded, but seemed far from being convinced. "I want to know how this accident happened…what we lost, what we can still use…"

"I'll be sure to do that," Warrick cut him off, coming into the room. He gave Greg a cold glare before continuing. "Part of my responsibility since I'm the lead on the case. The report will be on your desk as soon as it's finished."

"I'd like that," Ecklie cleared his throat as he straightened his tie; crossing his arms once he was done.

"I'll run the case," Sara stated suddenly. Greg looked up at her cautiously, missing the surprised glances of the other two men.

"I'll take it," Warrick argued slowly, "I'm lead, it's my call."

"Exactly," Sara nodded, pulling her gloves off. "You can't just abandon the case, and Greg can't work solo, so the obvious choice would be me."

"We need someone that won't be biased," Ecklie pointed, another frown creeping on his face.

"I was down in the pipe when it happened," Sara argued, moving further into the center of the room. "I didn't see anything…I couldn't be biased even if I wanted too."

Ecklie nodded in approval, obviously pleased at her answer. From the look on Warrick's face it was obvious that he was the complete opposite, yet he made no move to argue any further.

Greg let out a silent breath of relief. It made him feel better if only slightly that Sara would be running the case. He doubted Sara would work in his favor, but at least she would be fair…he closed his eyes, fighting off the nauseating smell as he opened one of the last bags.

"I'll finish," Sara turned back to him, catching his eye as the others left the room.

Greg looked at her questioningly, still holding the bag open with gloved hands. "I'm okay…" he reached in carefully, pulling out the handful of nails Warrick had bagged earlier. "There's still blood on them, we may be able to use it still."

He looked up as her hand came down on his, stopping his movements. "I'll take care of it. You've pulled your hours, head on home."

At first Greg wanted to argue, feeling as though he was being let down, but Sara nodded at him, at the same time pushing him gently out of the way. It was probably the wisest idea…he felt exhausted, a combination of his weariness and worry, as well as guilt. With his hands limp at his side he watched her work for a moment, stumbling over his words as he lowered his voice.

"I'm sorry," he started to apologize, coming to a stop when Sara shook her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Sara answered, taking her time to look up at him. "Even if evidence shows that you're at fault, I know you didn't mean it."

Greg nodded slowly, comforted by her words. She was going to run the investigation as one would normally, listening to the evidence instead of emotions. "Are you okay?"

She gave him a quick smile, nodding. "A few bruises, a scratch here and there. Gave me an adrenaline rush more than anything," she laughed softly before becoming more serious. "What about you?"

Greg was quiet, unsure of what to say. His arm was still hurting, though not as bad as it first had. He flexed his fingers slowly, wincing in pain, but it went unnoticed, and he was quick to mask it. "I'm fine," he nodded in return, his voice tight as the lie passed easily. "I'll catch up with you later on then…I mean, unless you want me to stay, I have no problem with that."

"It's fine," she reassured him, "I'll start on the new case once I finish logging in the evidence, you'll have a hard enough time trying to keep up with Warrick. Go home while you can."

He nodded, lowering his head as he said his final goodbyes, heading out into the hallways. Sara had told him to go home, but somehow he felt guilty for leaving when everyone else was still hard at work. Sure, he could go home easily enough, and he wanted to desperately, but it would be the best for everyone if he faced Warrick tonight. He knew the older man would be upset with him; it was apparent enough that he already was. Maybe he could close the gap at least a little tonight.

He wasn't hard to find, and Greg was glad to see that was alone. With a single knock he entered the room, coming to a stop when Warrick looked up. As quickly as he had though, he looked away, going back to his work.

"I'm free if you need a hand," Greg offered, coming closer to the table.

"You've done enough," Warrick pointed out sternly, not bothering to look up this time.

The words stung, but Greg let them pass, taking in a breath to steady himself. "I figured we could get ahead tonight, make it less of a load tomorrow maybe."

"We aren't doing anything," Warrick was quick to interrupt him. "It's going to take a miracle to land this case, we have hardly anything, I can't risk another screw up."

"I didn't mean for it too happen," Greg responded, his voice rising. "Do you honestly think I wanted to hurt Sara?"

"No," Warrick shot back, making firm eye contact with him, "I think you wanted to be the hero, and instead of asking for help when you screwed up you tried to take care of everything yourself. It was a foolish choice, the only reason you're getting away so easily is because Sara won't do anything. If I had a say in it you would be on suspension while your work files were reviewed. We work as a team; we can't have people like you trying to be a one-man team."

"Is that what you think?" Greg asked, his voice matching that of Warrick's. The situation was unraveling quickly, in the complete opposite direction he had intended. Still he was having a hard time believing what he was hearing. From Warrick none the less, the man normally had strong control over his emotions.

"Yes," Warrick nodded, "but that won't happen, sadly enough. However, since I'm lead on the case, I'm telling you now that your part in this investigation is over with."

"You can't cut me off," Greg argued, "Like it or not, you are in charge of me. Grissom wouldn't be very pleased to hear that you're not following through on your job."

"I didn't say you weren't going to be doing any work," Warrick snapped angrily. "I just said you were done helping with the case. There are some cold case files in the layout room. You can go through those."

"Grissom told you do those," Greg pointed out quietly, the feeling of defeat creeping over him.

"Now I'm telling you," Warrick had gone back to his work, his voice still stern but no where as loud as it had been previously.

Greg didn't respond this time, but he made no move to leave either. He stood their quietly, watching the older man work, an irate feeling growing as he was continually ignored.

"Either go work the case files or go home," Warrick finally spoke, breaking the uneasy silence. It was clear he was going to change his mind, leaving Greg to let out a heavy sigh, turning on his heel as he left the room.

He was feeling worse than before, wishing now he had listened to Sara, and had head home straight away. Reviewing cold cases did not sound appealing at the moment, and part of him refused to complete a job that had originally been giving to another team member. His trek found him in coming to a stop in the locker room, and he lowered himself onto the bench in front of his locker.

His mind searched over the possible answers to what had happened. Was it possible he had missed something? Could everything been prevented if he had paid more attention? Warrick was constantly on him about his attitude towards cases, frowning on his 'lack of respect' towards victims, or as Warrick like to call it.

Perhaps if he had been more serious, maybe if he had focused more…there were a lot of maybes, none of which he could answer. Warrick was right, in a sense. He had cost the lab a lot. Not only in money, but in time, evidence…it would take a miracle to close the case. A killer would more in likely go free because of him. And Sara…Sara was okay…but that was luck…pure and simple luck. He was beyond lucky that she was okay, if he hadn't grabbed the rope when he did…

He grimaced as he glanced down at his arm, clenching his fingers and opening them slowly. Greg hadn't any time to take a good look at it. First it had been lighting issues, then he was always with someone. Taking a quick look around Greg nodded, confirming that he was indeed alone as he reached down with his good hand, his fingers hooking around the end of his sleeve.

He worked the fabric up carefully, moving slow as he stretched his arm out. Letting out a sigh, he pushed it passed his elbow, holding his arm out in front of him, his fingers lightly tracing the dark bruising patterns. It wasn't a wonder why it hurt so much…a bruise like that wasn't easy to obtain.

"You hear Sanders screwed up out in the field?"

Greg looked to the side; the voices were quiet, but unmistakably clear as the two lab technicians walked by.

"Heard he messed up big time. Ruined an entire case..."

"He's such a klutz," the first one laughed, "We should consider ourselves lucky we got rid of him. Now we don't have to worry about him."

Greg let his head drop into his one good hand, letting out a sigh. Was there any possibility that this night could get worse? The entire lab knew by now, and he had a few guesses to who let it all slip out. Pulling his sleeve back down he jumped up, pausing long enough to grab his keys before heading out.

**TBC**


	3. Truths

**Chapter Three: Truths**

It wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done, but at this point in time he couldn't find the strength to care. He sipped the cold liquid, relishing in the refreshing taste as he leaned his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. After all, he had taken the Ibuprofen tablets nearly twenty minutes ago, as long as he was reasonable he should be fine. At any rate, he desperately needed something to calm him down.

He reached behind him, setting the open beer down on the table as he moved his attention back to his arm, lifting the ice packet off his skin. The drive home had been a horrible experience, finding out the hard way he could no longer lift his arm above shoulder level. Driving with one hand wasn't a problem, but the steady ache in his bruised arm constantly distracted him. Often he found he couldn't move his fingers, several times they had gone numb. It was beginning to worry him.

Now that he as at home, his mind unoccupied, he felt the pain growing, even though he was no longer using it. Once arriving home he had collected a handful of items from his bedroom, pulling out a single blanket and several pillows. He had taken the pills, grabbed a beer and an ice pack, settling down on the couch. One pillow rested behind him, the other on top of his chest which he crossed his arm over.

Looking at it now it seemed as though the swelling had gone down, but it was hard to tell at this angle, and Greg wasn't about to move his arm more than necessary. Part of him knew he should seek some sort of medical attention. As time went on it was obvious that it was more than a simple bruise. Another part of him was in denial. He kept reassuring himself that everything was going to be fine, the only reason it hurt so much was because he was stressed.

He fought off a yawn, leaning back against the pillow as he turned his head away from the television set. Greg wasn't about to deal with it now. He was passed exhausted, and depression was starting to set in. No one at the lab believed his story…save for Sara perhaps.

It was just like a bad dream, he reassured himself quietly. By tomorrow everyone would have forgotten about it. He would give Warrick some time to cool down; maybe then the man wouldn't be so cross.

* * *

He didn't look up until she knocked on the door, although he knew she had been standing there for a while. It was then he acknowledged her with a nod, returning to his work as she came in. 

"Can I help you with something?" he inquired, his eyes skimming over the paperwork.

"Yeah…actually you can. Ecklie handed me a new case…"

"And you want me to me to transfer it to someone else."

"I know," Sara let out a sigh, her arms crossed over her chest as she walked closer to the one wall, taking time to admire his collection. "There's nothing you can do, but I don't know how Ecklie expects me to work both cases. He wants the incident report on his desk by the end of the week, and at the moment I have three eye witnesses waiting for me to take their statements. I can't be in two places at once."

Grissom took a moment to look up at her, but never met her eyes as her back was turned towards him. "Well then…go with the case, work on the report later.

She turned sideways, watching him. "I can't finish everything on my own in three days. That's unrealistic."

"What do you want me to do?" Grissom asked tiredly, already shaking his head. It was always pressing when Sara came to him like this. He hated being the bad guy, but her requests were ones he could not fill.

"I'd like some help," she suggested.

"I can't spare Nick or Catherine," he argued. "This hit and run is top priority."

She let out a sigh, becoming quiet. She had no real argument towards that, but her brow furled as she began to think. "Put Greg with me."

He looked up at her again, frowning. "Do you really think that's the best idea concerning all that's happened?"

"Not you too," Sara complained, closing her eyes as she drew in a breath. "Come on Grissom, you can't sit there and tell me that you think Greg actually did this."

He shook his head, his attention back on the file. "It's not a matter of what I think, but how Greg feels about it."

"How Greg feels?" Sara wondered briefly, moving to sit down in the chair across from him.

"He certainly not getting the favor from the rest of the lab, and he may feel apprehensive working with you."

"I'm certain he'll feel a lot less apprehensive working with me than working with Warrick."

Grissom nodded, "Remind me to talk with him, he's experienced enough to know better. At fault or not Greg doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. I'll tell you what, if Greg wants to work with you, he's all yours."

"Great," Sara gave him a single nod, pushing herself to a standing position, "That's all I needed."

* * *

He had ignored his cell, though the phone had gone off a total of three different times. Instead he had buried his head into the pillow, praying that whoever was calling would quickly realize that he wasn't going to answer. It had been hard enough to fall asleep, the pain in his arm a constant reminder of what had happened earlier. 

Now he was attempting to fall asleep before he woke up completely. Greg let out a sigh as his cell fell silent once again, relaxing back into the folds of the blanket he had wrapped about himself.

As if on cue his house phone went off, eliciting a groan from deep within his throat. He opened a single eye, glaring at the device as it rang again. Obviously they were determined; he knew instinctively it was work. They were the only ones who called him so persistently.

He rolled over, working his way out of the blanket as the phone rang a third time. He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer, but at the same time he knew they would only keep calling until he did. Pushing himself up he reached out, only to curse as the pain soared through his arm. He pulled it back quickly, resting it against his chest as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

Waiting for the pain to subside he reached up with his right hand, picking up the receiver.

"Sanders," he breathed lightly, leaning back against the cushions.

"You should really check your cell," Sara's voice wafted through, a hint of mirth could be detected.

"Hasn't gone off all night," Greg lied, stretching out his bruised arm. It felt as though it was heavy, and he bit back a groan as his fingers began to tingle once again.

"How are you doing?" Her voice had changed suddenly, causing Greg to frown in worry. Did she know something was wrong? Greg shook his head, of course not…how could she?

"What do you mean?" his voice was breathless as he asked the question, the worry still evident, though he tried to mask it.

"With Warrick I mean…" Sara explained quietly, "You're not letting him get under your skin, are you?"

He let out a breath, closing his eyes in as he whispered a prayer before answering. She didn't know after all. "Yeah…yeah I'm good."

"You feel like working? I can really use an extra hand."

Greg nodded quickly, "When do you need me?"

"As soon as you can get here."

"Alright," he glanced sideways at the clock on his wall. "Give me ten minutes or so, I'll be there."

He wasn't sure really what he had done; it would have been easier to say no. Greg let out a sigh as he hung up, his attention turning down towards his arm. He flexed his fingers, curling them into a fist. The action was painful, but not nearly as much as before. Pushing himself to his feet, he dropped the blanket on the couch, heading straight into the bathroom.

Turning the water on Greg moved to pull his shirt off, wincing at the painful movement. He hadn't changed clothes since coming home, and now he knew why. Even moving slowly, his arm wasn't cooperating, the limb was stiff, unresponsive sometimes. He was hoping the warm water would help relax it. At any rate it took a long time, much longer than he expected. He was already an hour late by the time he pulled fresh clothes on, and he still had drive in.

* * *

"You're late," Sara commented as he walked in. 

"You want to tell me something I don't know?" Greg replied sarcastically, coming up next to her. "I had trouble finding my car keys."

"So you don't bother to call in?" she wondered dimly.

"I would if I thought it would speed things up," Greg offered. "What do we have?"

"Arson," she pulled off her lab coat, standing up as she did so. "Waiting for us when we're ready. I already took the statements, three different people, three different stories."

"The usual," Greg shook his head, giving her a grin. Most of the time eyewitnesses weren't the best source, others, they could be helpful.

Sara took a step back, raising an eyebrow as she studied him. "Cold?" she wondered, doing her best not too laugh. The long black sweater seemed out of place for Greg, especially considering they were moving into the summer season. At night it was a different matter, when the cases took you away from the heart of the city, but now they would be headed into near triple degree heat.

"Is that a crime?" Greg replied, his grin turning suddenly into a frown. It wasn't his first choice. He was already uncomfortable just in the lab and that was air-conditioned, there was no telling how things would go once he got outside. However, it was only shirt he had with long sleeves that was clean.

Sara met his frown with one of her own, taken aback by his rough question. "I didn't mean anything," she apologized quickly, "I was just…"

"I'm sorry," Greg interrupted her, taking in a breath. "I didn't sleep very much. I didn't mean to snap like that."

She nodded, her concern still evident. "If you need some sleep…I can handle this on my own."

Greg shook his head, "I'm okay, let's just get going."

Sara let out a sigh, watching him leave. Somehow she had that funny feeling that it was going to be a long day.

* * *

The house was small, something they were both grateful for. Greg wasn't sure how much longer he could work with his arm. Most of the tasks he could one handed, but not all of them. Sara wanted to wrap the case up quickly, anxious to get back to her first one. The sooner she figured out what happen, the sooner she could patch things up between the two men. 

She knew that Greg wasn't at fault; she just had to prove it now. Warrick wouldn't listen to her, she wasn't sure what was bothering the man, he was usually more grounded than this. She knew he had been in a bad mood earlier that night, rumors stated that he had a brush with Ecklie earlier, and his odd silence confirmed that fact.

Sara knelt down next to the couch, or what was left of it, skimming the burnt remains. Her gaze lifted from the charred material to Greg, who was working several feet away, his own flashlight skimming the walls. It wasn't like Greg to get snappy either.

Her frown deepened as she watched his hand snake into his pocket, pulling out a small white tube. She watched, concerned now as he brought it towards his mouth, out of her view. "Greg?"

He turned to her quickly, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Greg let out a breath, resisting the urge to shrug. He had already done so once, regretting the action. Sara was obviously waiting for an answer, pressing him for time. He blurt out the first thing that came to his mind. "Just eating some mints…"

It was a ridiculous answer, deserving of the surprised look Sara gave him. Greg turned away quickly, trying to focus on finding trace evidence. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to admit he was taking painkillers. It was one of the reasons why he was so late in arriving at the lab, a quick stop at the store to pick up something stronger for the pain. If he could make it through today, he was confident he would be fine.

"Eating?" Sara repeated, watching him with a frown. "This is a crime scene Greg; you're not supposed to be eating anything."

"Sorry," Greg muttered, keeping his voice low. As long as he didn't have to explain himself it was fine what Sara thought.

She shook her head, but let it pass. It surprised her, but she was confident that Greg would learn in time. This was one of the reasons she wanted Greg working with her…Warrick wouldn't have been so patient. She let out a breath, wishing she could sort everything out, wishing she had all the answers. The rest of the time went by quickly, and soon they found themselves back at the lab. Greg had already gone ahead of her, leaving her to clear out the rest of the collected evidence. She reached over the seat, grabbing the single bag he had left behind in the car, pausing when she lifted it up.

On the floor under the bag was the small tube Greg had earlier, and she frowned, shaking her head. Greg would have to do a better job of paying attention to what he left behind. She leaned over again, grasping the small vial, but was startled as the lid slid off, the contents sliding out onto the floor of the vehicle. The small white pills glared up at her, covered only by the shadow of her hand as she reached down, picking several up. Sara wasn't sure what they were, but she knew for certain that they weren't mints as Greg had suggested earlier…

She shook her head; it couldn't be possible, could it? Sara almost laughed the notion off, would have, that was, if it wasn't so serious. She took in a breath, seating herself in the front seat of the car. Greg was taking drugs…

**TBC**


	4. Breaks

**Chapter Four: Breaks**

He looked up in confusion, not when she came in, but when she closed the door behind. To top it all off, she closed the blinds as well, casting the room into semidarkness. Greg shook the eerie feeling off, flashing her one of his famous grins. "You know, if you wanted to be alone, we could have gone to my place."

Sara shook her head in disbelief, turning towards him. Part of her wanted to come back with her own comment, another part wanted to tell him to shove it. She was in no right mood to play, and Greg was quick to catch on because his smile faded, and he cleared his throat. "What's wrong?"

"What are these?" She thrust the bottle out at him, pulling them back when he reached for them. Her thoughts were more than irrational at the moment, the very reason she had tried her hardest to not come to a conclusion. She wasn't sure what she wanted to hear, part of her suspected that Greg would lie, and it make her uneasy, sick to her stomach. If Greg lied to her, how many other times had he lied to her in the past? But at the same time she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the truth.

"Where did you get those?" Greg breathed softly, all the sudden feeling very uncomfortable. He shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding her gaze. He had never seen her quite this mad; sure, she had come close, but that was at suspects…never at him before…

"You left them in the car," Sara's voice wavered then, and she turned away, calming herself. "What is it…you know…why?" All he questions were unfinished, and she found herself stumbling over her own words. "Do you need help?" she asked softly, almost tearfully.

Greg frowned; the situation had gone from bad to worse. If Sara didn't suspect before, she certainly did now. Perhaps he should tell her…his arm was hurting worse as the day went by, and no amount of pain killers had worked to even numb it. The thought did cross his mind…but so did another. He could imagine telling her, could see her reaction clearly. The whole sequence of questions that would follow, and he would stand there listening to her as she chastised him…it wasn't something he was looking forward too, plus the simple fact that she would want to see his arm, another big something he wasn't looking forward to doing.

"Greg…" Sara had taken a breath, calming herself, but it hadn't lasted long. "Do you need help? If you do, I know a good counselor; we can get you in, get you cleaned up…"

"Whoa…" Greg was quick to interject, holding his hand up. "Wait a minute…you think I'm…"

He let out a laugh, feeling relief flood through him. She did suspect something, but not what he feared. His eyes met with hers and he could see the worry and confusion there. Needless to say, he felt glad that he didn't have to lie.

"I'm not a druggy, if that's what you thinking," he said calmly. "I had a few drinks last night…I felt pretty bad about everything that happened, I was trying to take the edge off." Greg shrugged his shoulders, "I guess I had too much, when you called, I woke up, realized I had a migraine…hangover if you want to call it. You needed the help…and I didn't want to say no."

Sara bit her lip as she nodded. Greg wasn't sure if it was possible to tell a better lie…he fidgeted slightly. In a sense it wasn't a lie, but at the same time, it really wasn't the truth. He was just praying that Sara would buy it, and leave it at that.

"You're allowed to say no Greg," she told him quietly, "That's why I said it was up to you. Just because you're new in the field doesn't mean you have to do everything. You're still learning…if you needed the day off, all you had to do was say so."

Greg shrugged, sighing as he looked down. "Everyone else was still working," he argued, "That's why you called me. If I want to work the field, I have to work the hours too, right?"

"We don't expect you to, we work very different hours out here…it'll take some time getting used to" Sara counted him, coming to a rest on the table. She put the bottle down, running her finger on the top. "Why hide it though?"

"Because I know I'm not supposed to take medications without clearing it with Grissom first…and if he knew he wouldn't let me work…" Greg tried to shrug it off, not wanting to go into any detail. "I didn't think."

"That's the truth?" Sara asked quietly. She was holding her breath, praying that it was. She didn't want to think of the other options. Greg nodded slowly, watching her.

"Sara, you're an investigator, if I was a druggy, you would know. You've seen it enough times…you can't tell me that's what you see when you look at me."

She nodded sadly, taking her time to study him. He seemed tense…but given the circumstances it wasn't out of place…other than that…he seemed normal. Greg was right…she would be able to notice if he was on something…perhaps he was telling the truth.

"I'm not going to report you," she told him, earning a surprised look from Greg. "I trust you…but no more of this," she clutched the bottle in her hand. "I won't cover for you next time."

Greg nodded, watching her leave, letting out then the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. There would be no more…that was too close for comfort. He flexed his arm carefully, wincing. It was a shame Sara took the pills with her…he could have done with another one at the moment.

But he couldn't think that way anymore…Sara would be watching him closer now, that was obvious. So taking any medication at work was now out of the question. Part of him wished he had spoken up about his arm…maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. Sure, she would have chastised him, had gone off about how stupid and idiotic and stubborn he was being…

It was hard to believe himself…Greg knew something was wrong, and his mind left him to wonder how much was wrong, but he was afraid. In the end that's all it was. He was afraid to admit he had messed up, and his pride was hurting. It was all a silly matter, if he took a moment to really think about it, but that part of his reasoning was gone.

He shook his head, turning his attention back to his work. He would have to be much more careful from now on…

* * *

She wasn't sure if she had done the right thing. Sara knew that if it had been anyone else, that she would have reported it. Most of all it caught her off guard. Greg, of all people…he knew the rules, which was why he did well to try and hide everything. She chastised herself most of all; she should have noticed sooner that something was up. Laughing she shook her head, remembering when Greg had told her it was just mints he was eating.

Who would eat mints like that? She made a face at the thought. She herself never cared much for the small treats; they were always too…minty for her. It was the only word she could come up with. Besides, if Greg had said something along the lines of cough drops, the situation would have been different.

Sara paused for a moment, taking one last look at the bottle of pills that sat just inside her locker. Slightly paranoid she reached in, pushing it further to the back, behind her change of clothes. They would be safe there, even if someone found them in her locker there would be no way to prove she was taking the medication during work hours. Smiling in satisfaction she grabbed her purse, closing the locker.

She was on her way home now; Greg had already left near a half hour ago. The rest of the night had been awkward, she hated giving him the cold shoulder, but the youth seemed more withdrawn then normal. Part of it, she supposed, was that he was tired. She wouldn't blame him at all.

Greg had put in a full night's work, on his night off as well. He was expected back in only a few hours. Sara smiled softly to herself, pulling her coat over her shoulder. She would be back in as well, partly to finish the case, but also to keep an eye on Greg. Somehow she felt there was more going on with him, the single thought cause her to pause just outside.

The air was cool, and felt refreshing against her skin. The sun was slowly climbing into the sky, singling the beginning of the day…but the city was already alive, and thriving. She wondered if maybe she should drop by his place; see if he really was okay. Shaking her head she moved to her car. The next shift would start in hours, and if she missed another night of sleep…Sara laughed bitterly, letting those thoughts slip out of her mind.

* * *

It was only a few hours into the shift, but Sara knew something was wrong. Yesterday she had intended to keep a keener eye on him, which she had done so unnoticeably. At first she had missed it, but as the night passed by, she took in account on how Greg used his left arm…more so on how little he used it.

It was also odd, she noted, that Greg was wearing a sweater…it was warm in the lab, nearly too warm to be wearing a sweater…and the same sweater he wore yesterday. They didn't talk much, and Sara was unsure of how to approach him with her question. She didn't want to press him, but she knew something was up.

For half the night, instead of logging in evidence as she was supposed to, she sat instead, running the scenario in her head. After all, it as unfair to accuse him on just a suspicion, but to do nothing at all…it made her feel guilty. Her thoughts soon were occupied as she began working on her first case.

She hadn't talked to Warrick since that first night, but rumors had been going around, stating that Grissom had talked with the man. Apparently it hadn't been enough, because Greg was still avoiding the older man. It wasn't a surprise, and she blamed Greg little on that matter.

Her thoughts trailed off again, unable to concentrate on any of the work. Her concern was growing, and she knew then something had to be done…but what exactly? She glanced up, as Greg came in, handing her the folder. She took it without question; opening it though the action was unnecessary, as Greg was already rambling off the results.

It was then the idea hit her, and though it seemed a bit cruel in her mind, she knew logically that if something was wrong, it would get him to confess. Without missing a beat she cut him off in mid section, pointing over her shoulder without really looking. She knew in her mind what was up there, and if she wanted it to seem practical, she had to play the part right.

"I need that crate down, will you get it for me?"

Greg had finished his sentence before switching gears, his eyes trailing up the crate that sat on the top shelf above both their heads. It seemed easy enough, and he took a step closer, reaching up with both hands before pausing. He couldn't move his one arm that way, and he cursed himself silently.

It was then he noticed Sara was watching, and he took a quick step back, pretending to be thinking. Pointing with one finger he nodded towards Sara. "That one, there?"

"Yeah…" her voice trailed off, watching as Greg stepped closer a second time. He reached up with one arm, his right arm, grasping the bottom of the crate as he started to pull it off the shelf.

"Careful," she warned, "its heavy. You may want to use both hands."

Greg knew she was right, just by the size alone. Even if he were able to support the weight with one arm, he would never be able to keep it balanced. But if he admitted he couldn't do it, then Sara would want to know why. Not being one to let up easily, Greg positioned himself under the crate, pulling it out further with his one good hand.

He tried reaching up with the other as it began to tilt, wincing at the instinctive movement. The crate righted itself, back on the shelf and Greg stepped back, letting out a breath. He wasn't quite too sure how to get it down now.

"How long?"

Greg turned towards her, a frown on his face as he shook his head. "What?"

"Your arm," Sara stated, crossing her own arms in front of her chest. "How long has it been hurting?"

Greg shook his head, turning away. "I don't have time for this."

"If it wasn't hurting you, you'd be able to get it down. Don't play me Greg, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Greg ground out between clenched teeth. He had paused in the doorway, turning back towards her when she made her last statement. "I just slept on it wrong last night, it's really stiff today."

"And what's your excuse going to be for tomorrow?" she wondered, moving across the room towards him. "That you donated blood and they missed? And the day after that? Are you going to tell me you got into some bar fight? How many excuses are you going to make up before you start telling the truth?"

"I haven't lied," Greg told her firmly. This time he didn't back down, because even though he hadn't told her the entire truth, he hadn't lied either. He wouldn't be blamed for something he hadn't done.

"I'm trying to help you Greg," she said softly, taking another step. She could almost touch him now, but he turned away, heading down the hall. Sara was quick to follow, calling out after him, but he made no move to slow down.

She let out a sigh, one of frustration as she moved after him. He wasn't listening, wasn't thinking, both of which could be dangerous, knowing him. It wasn't often Greg became mad, but when he did he didn't slow down to think, and he began to leap before he had thoroughly looked.

Greg knew he had gotten himself into trouble the moment Sara asked him to get the crate down. He should had said no, although it would have created quite a sight. Then he supposed he could have gotten the ladder, or maybe straight out have told Sara he wasn't feeling well…there were a many number of things he could have done to get out of the situation, none of which he had tried.

Sara accusations didn't make anything better. His brain screamed at him that he was being stupid, yelling at him to listen to what she had said, doing everything it could to do to stop the pain. He no longer cared; he was starting to really miss working in the DNA lab. At least there no one hounded him.

He turned the corner, brushing past Warrick as he did so. At first the older man paid little heed to him, something Greg was thankful for, but as soon as he saw Sara hurrying down the hall towards him, calling out his name, he made a comment.

Greg didn't respond, only continued his quickened pace. He could hear Warrick curse under his breath, repeating himself a little louder that he needed to stop. He expected it; Warrick would jump at any chance to chastise someone. It was what he was good at, but what he didn't expect was for him to reach out.

He felt his fingers close around his arm, and if he had been thinking rationally, he would have stopped, would have given up as the vice grip closed around his bruised arm. But he was still angry, unwilling to submit to that simple fact, and he pulled away, cringing at the pain. It wasn't until Warrick pulled him back, spinning him around that the sharp snap could be heard clearly, and the look of horror on Warrick's face was a clear match to the one of pain that covered Greg's face.

**TBC**


	5. Searching for the Truth

**This one goes out to Jenny, for all your help with everything. I'm not a doctor, so I'm hoping I have everything right, if not, I'm going back to my first statement, that I'm not a doctor. **

**All you guys are wonderful, I love reading your comments :D There should be one more chapter to finish up the story. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Searching for the Truth**

It was a different sort of pain; before it had been an ache, a steady pulse that seemed to have a life all its own. For the most part, it had been manageable…when he didn't move it, that was. Now the pain was white-hot, sharp, his arm seemed as though it was on fire, even though he knew that wasn't the case.

Greg let out a cry, drawing in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall. Warrick was still holding his arm, though nowhere near with the same force as before. In the pain he could barely hear Sara, as she rushed up next to them.

"Let go," she snapped angrily, unsure of how to handle the situation, but knowing that she had to do something. "He's hurt."

It wasn't necessary to state the obvious, but it was enough to bring Warrick out of the trance he had fallen in. Greg hadn't tried to move away, at the time he was doing his best just to handle the pain, he wasn't sure he could even move his arm, and he wasn't about to try.

Warrick let go, wincing himself as Greg quickly cradled the oddly angled limb with his opposite arm, effectively pinning it against his chest. He was bent over slightly, drawing in short, tight breaths of air. The commotion hadn't gone unnoticed, others were already peering around the corner, and out open doors to see what had occurred, but no one made a move to interfere.

Sara was quick to react, reaching a hand out to place on Greg's shoulder, taken aback when he turned away. "Greg…"

"Just go," he shook his head, his voice strung high, even though it was barely above a whisper.

"Locker room," Warrick nodded towards Sara, noticing the attention they were all getting. Sara would have disagreed straight out, already angry with Warrick before, but well past furious now. Still, it was the best idea, other than getting him to a doctor. Convincing him would be the hardest part; she didn't want to drag him down the hospital, but if that's what they had to do…

She reached out again, letting out a comforting breath when Greg didn't turn from her this time. With a steady hand on his back she led him down the hall, Warrick at his other side. By the time they reached the room Greg's breaths had turned into gasps, and he was grateful to sit down. Still, he was afraid of what was to come.

They would question him, that was for sure, but they would want to take a look at his arm as well. If it hurt this much right now, how much would it hurt when they went to move it? He shook his head, biting his lip to keep from crying as Sara sat down next to him, already warding her off before she even asked her question.

"We need to get you to the hospital," Sara told him firmly, not even wanting to risk moving his arm any further.

"She's right Greg," Warrick backed her up with a nod. He was leaning against the lockers, his hands in his pockets. There was a bitter taste in his mouth, and he shifted uncomfortably. He hadn't meant to hurt Greg, but it was obvious that was what had transpired.

Greg, meanwhile, was hunched over, his breaths more than audible as his forehead came to touch his knees. He pulled away as a hand come to rest on his back, but didn't make the effort to look up.

"Easy G," Nick's voice was quiet, full of concern, but quite steady all at the same time. He must have seen what had happened; Greg hadn't even heard the Texan come in. He drew in another shaky breath, not bothering to even wipe away the tears that were falling. Nick's voice filled the air again, but it wasn't directed towards him. Greg heard him tell the others to get the vehicle, that they would be out in a moment.

Nick was down in front of him then, slowly coaxing him up to a sitting position. The look on his face was sincere, one hand resting on his shoulder, the other for balance against the bench. "What happened?"

Greg shook his head, swallowing a hiccup as he did so. He could hear Nick sigh, but at the moment in time he could care less who he disappointed. However his friend nodded, somehow understanding his predicament. "Can you walk?" he queried, continuing on. "We need to get you in, get that arm of yours checked out."

"It's just a bruise," Greg whispered, grinding the words out between clenched teeth. He added emphases to it, hoping that he would convince himself in the end. Nick however wasn't fooled, and he moved so that he was sitting next to Greg.

"Greg…look at you. You can't move your arm, you're crying…"

"No I'm not," Greg snapped back bitterly, but grew quiet as he bit back another sob. Dully he realized that Nick was right, despite how much he wanted to deny it. He was close to his breaking point now, and more than anything he just wanted the pain to stop, he didn't care what it took anymore.

"Its okay man," Nick reassured him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as he pulled him to his feet. Greg followed blindly, his head hanging down while his eyes watched each and every step they took. He closed his eyes as they stepped outside, fighting off the pain as he whispered one last time that it was nothing more than a simple bruise.

* * *

The drive there had been relatively quiet, save for the heavy, irregular breaths from Greg. Sara had driven, Warrick in the front and Nick staying in the back, comforting him the best he could.

He had been admitted without question, and the threesome found themselves waiting in the hallway just outside the door, all their moods much the same. Warrick eased himself down into a chair, staring blatantly ahead. Sara glared at him, turning away as she walked the length of the hallway.

"I didn't do anything," Warrick called after her, one hand supporting his head.

Sara was quick to turn on him, the look on her face was one mixed between shock and amazement. "You broke his arm!"

"You know as well as I do that there's no possible way to break someone's arm by just grabbing them," Warrick was quick to counter the statement, "I was barely holding him."

"He was already hurt beforehand," Sara pointed out, walking closer to him.

"Then it's his own damn fault that he didn't get any help," he snapped back angrily.

"Maybe he would have, if he hadn't been so afraid."

Warrick huffed, sitting up in the chair so that he was on the edge of the seat. "Why in the world would he be afraid?" he questioned.

"Oh I don't know," Sara shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Maybe about all the times you chewed him out for something he had no control over, telling him he needs to be more professional and stop being so self-centered. That would get to anyone, let alone a rookie."

"He knows I didn't mean half of that," Warrick stated in his defense. "Besides, it was his own choice to whether or not he wanted help; he has to live with the consequences."

"It would have never happened if you just stayed out of other people's business," Sara continued on, not about to let him win the argument.

"How does that work out?"

"You had no right to interfere," she took a breath, "What was going on between me and Greg was our own problem. But of course, you had to step mid center into everything, because you're the good guy. You never start the problems, but your bound determine to finish them."

"He was disrespecting you…"

"It doesn't matter what he was doing," Nick took the opportunity to jump in, breaking up the ongoing feud. He didn't want to take sides, only seeing a muffled, jumbled perspective of what had happened. Still, others were beginning to watch, and the last thing they needed was a fight between team members, in the middle of a hospital.

"What matters now is that Greg's hurt, and that he needs to get better. That's what's important."

He wasn't sure if it would work or not, so he was relieved to hear that neither made another attempt to fuel the fires once more. Nick himself was more worried about Greg. The younger man often had a high pain tolerance, and a cupful of stubbornness that measured well beyond that. A recipe for disaster.

He looked up in time to see Grissom coming down the hallway, his look of confusion matching the one on his supervisor's face. The others turned as well, once Grissom had reached them, slowing his pace to take a good look at the three.

"What's going on here?" he asked, spreading his hands out.

Nick shook his head gently. "We haven't heard from his doctor yet, they're still in with him."

"No, I meant with you three," Grissom explained quickly. "I asked only one of you to wait here until I showed up."

"We're all concerned," Warrick told him with a slight nod. Sara agreed quietly, leaning against the wall opposite of Warrick.

"I can understand," Grissom turned to all of them. "But if you're here, you're not working on the cases, and you're still on company time."

It was indication of a command, not a question, and without much thought Warrick found himself walking down the hall towards the entrance. Nick wasn't too far behind, knowing already there would only be one vehicle heading back towards the lab, and he wasn't thrilled with the idea of catching a cab.

Only Sara stayed behind, watching as Grissom found himself a seat. He had taken his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free fingers. She shifted uncomfortably, but stayed in the one spot against the wall. It was then Grissom looked up at her with a frown.

"Why are you still here?"

"I want to hear how he's doing," she told him quietly, frowning when shook his head. "Grissom, he was hurt while under my supervision, I want to make sure he's okay."

"And he will be," Grissom nodded towards her. "But I also know that you have two active cases, one of which has to be finished by tomorrow. You won't get them done sitting here."

She hated it when he was right, hated it even more so because she knew he was right before he had even started. Still, she didn't like the thought of leaving Greg alone…not that he would be alone, Grissom would remain behind, but it would be abandonment all along…right?

"Go," Grissom urged her, "I'll call when I know something."

She stood there a moment longer, thinking over her options before realizing she had none. With a short goodbye she headed in the direction of the other two, hoping that they hadn't already left.

Grissom found himself alone, with a headache beyond all the others. He had gotten the call just over fifteen minutes ago, leaving an active case of his own. Catherine would be fuming mad at this point, he hadn't even time to call her and explain the situation. What was even worse was the concept of Ecklie finding out. To which he already knew the older man would…it was just a matter of timing.

So far three different stories had sprung up, none of them sounding feasible and yet he knew better than to disregard them as well. One rumor was that Greg had attacked Sara, and Warrick had separated the two, causing the injury.

It seemed possible, in the aspect of how Greg obtained the injury, but the simple thought of Greg attacking anyone was far too outlandish it seemed more like a sickening joke than anything else.

Another rumor stated that Greg and Warrick were arguing, and it had turned physical, resulting in Sara breaking the pair up, but not before Greg ended up hurt. Once again, plausible, but not very possible.

Lastly, there was yet another one that stated Greg had received the injury while trying to break up a feud between Warrick and Sara. Whatever the case, it was going to turn out ugly, someone was hurt inside the lab by a fellow worker…Ecklie would be all over him.

"Excuse me; are you the one who brought Mr. Sanders in?"

The voice startled him, and he glanced up quickly towards the young man that was in front of him. Quickly he pulled himself together, moving to his feet. "No…um, my name's Gil Grissom, I'm Greg's supervisor. His colleagues brought him in."

He shook hands with the man, whom he suspected was Greg's doctor. His assumptions were right, and the man nodded in approval.

"I'm Doctor Harris, I was somewhat curious if you could explain what happened here exactly."

Grissom shrugged, needless to say he was embarrassed when he realized that he could give no answer, and he wasn't going to bombard him with suspicions. "I was sort of hoping you could answer that," he replied quietly.

"His left arm is broken, it's a bit of a rough break, but it shouldn't be too hard to fix. There are two different break patterns however," he paused here, moving to pull several pictures out of the folder he was holding under one arm.

Grissom let out a pained sigh as the doctor held the x-rays up to the light for better viewing. It was clear enough to see the break, and quite obvious that it had to hurt quite a bit. Grissom had his fair share of broken bones, once a toe, another time it was a finger. Still it was nothing even close in comparison to this.

"The first break was straight, perhaps not even very big; he could have possibly mistaken it as a bad bruise. That was several days ago however, the bone had already tried to start healing itself. Then with just regular everyday use it caused the break to grow. However, you can see here that last break was a spiral. That could have been caused by several things."

"Damage?" Grissom questioned, rubbing his chin with one hand. The news that Greg had been hurt for several days now unnerved him. He wondered briefly what else the youth was hiding from him and the rest of the team. Surely, if someone knew that he was hurt, they would have done something…right?

"He's lucky," Doctor Harris nodded, slipping the x-rays back into the folder. He could have done serious damage, but somehow avoided all of that. He has picked up an infection, nothing that's not uncommon though. With his body trying to heal his arm his immune system was up to its normal standards. We see it often enough. We'll give him some antibiotics, as well as anti-inflammatories and something to help with the pain."

"So he's ready to go now?" Grissom asked softly.

The Doctor shook his head, "We're going to keep him for a little while, his arm's swollen pretty good, and I want to make sure his arm's set right."

Grissom nodded, understanding perfectly. It was better to be safe than sorry, and Greg would appreciate it as well, rather than having to go in to have everything reset. Instead Grissom cleared his throat. "Can I see him?"

He nodded, motioning over his shoulder. "He's resting, and I don't see any problems in it as long as you don't get him worked up. If he didn't come in to get checked out on his own, it's very possible he's not going to take care of himself on his own."

To this Grissom gave him a soft smile, almost one of mockery. "Trust me, he will."

**TBC**


	6. Coming to an End

Last chapter here, hope it answers some long awaited questions. Not too much angst, but a long post. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Six: Coming to an End**

Grissom was sure to close the door behind him quietly; from the looks of things Greg was asleep, but the older man had his doubts. Certainly he was much calmer now than before, no longer able to feel the pain…at least for now.

He was on one side, his bandaged arm resting on a pillow just below his head. His eyes were closed, and he drew in quiet breaths. Grissom moved quietly, pulling the chair closer to the bed as he sat down, watching him for a moment.

"You care to explain?"

Greg made no move to answer, instead he remained quiet, his eyes closed. Letting out a breath of air, he shifted in the chair, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees. "I know you're awake, you can stop pretending."

"Then your obvious conclusion would be that I don't want to talk about it," came Greg's crisp reply. Grissom had to smile to himself, knowing that he had struck a cord. With Greg, all you had to do was get him started.

"Too bad, you don't get a choice."

Greg shifted on the bed, so that he was on his back now, taking care to move his arm as little as possible. His eyes were still closed, but they blinked open, watching the ceiling now. "You can't force me to," he pointed out, a hint of mirth in his voice. It left though, the same moment he grew quiet again.

"True," Grissom nodded, sharing in his thoughts. "We can always investigate, that would cost money, and time. Or you can make it easy, tell me what happened. We need to be able to work together as a team, and know that we can rely on one another. I need to know if you're uncomfortable working with someone, or if we have anger issues that need to be examined."

"Everything's great," Greg muttered dryly. His eyes had closed once again, and he seemed content with his answer. Grissom watched him closely, unsure whether to take him seriously or not.

"I still need to know what happened. The doctor says your arm's been broken for a few days now." There was a pause, were it became silent enough to hear a pin drop; it seemed as though even their own breathing had stopped. "It happened that night, during the accident, didn't it?"

"I didn't know it was broken then," Greg stated quietly after a moment.

"Maybe not," Grissom agreed, nodding his head, which was pointless seeing that Greg still had his eyes closed. It wasn't as though he could hear him nod. He could remember many cases were victims or suspects had received broken limbs, and had continued using them without knowledge. Even though he had heard of it before, he had a hard time convincing himself this was what had transpired with Greg.

"Then as the days went by, and it became worse…you knew then. Why didn't you get any help?"

He could hear the sigh that passed between his lips, and watched as Greg once again opened his eyes, looking towards the far wall. "I don't know."

For once, it was the truth. Waiting here, it had given him enough time to really think things over. He couldn't come up with an answer to why; sure he could make up excuses, but he knew that none of them were true. "I guess I was just afraid."

"Of what?" Grissom asked, surprised by this answer. He had expected the younger man to pin it on Warrick. He knew some of what had transpired between the two men, and knew that when Warrick was angry it could rub off on anyone. Still he considered the question, thinking then that maybe Greg was indeed to referring to Warrick. So in the end, he was completely taken by surprise.

"I'm not sure," he explained quietly. Greg drew in a breath, trying to find the right words to describe it. "I knew what I was doing was stupid, knew that I should have said something. Every time I tried, something stopped me…I don't know…" he paused here, growing quiet.

Before Grissom had a chance to speak however, Greg started up again. "We worked so long on that case, and one small thing happens…we lost it all. Everyone's counting on me to do my part, and I only seem to get in the way. And the more I try, the more things seem to go wrong."

He realized now what the younger man had been trying to say, and he nodded sympathetically, agreeing with him. "That's pretty stressful, isn't it?"

Greg shrugged here, ever so slightly, "I guess so."

Grissom considered his answer, before continuing on. "You still haven't told me what happened."

Greg shook his head, "It was an accident. I mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later, right?"

"Not if you got help," Grissom reminded him, to which Greg shrugged, letting it pass by with little consideration. "Not to mention the danger you could have put yourself in."

"It all worked out fine," Greg hesitated before saying the last part. He knew Grissom was right, but hated to admit that factor.

"If you can call it fine," he continued on, "The lab will probably go under investigation, I'll be reviewed as a supervisor, and Sara, Warrick and Nick will probably be penalized for just being involved."

Greg felt the bitter taste return as he considered what had been said. He wasn't sure if all of it was true, but he didn't want to push his boss. The last few days, his thoughts had been centered on himself, with little speculation of the others. It wasn't fair to the others to have to go through that, for something that he brought upon himself. Greg was about to voice this concern when Grissom spoke first.

"Get some rest," he nodded towards the younger man. "I'll take you home when the doctor gives you the okay."

He gave him a funny look, watching his boss stand up. "You're not going to leave?"

Grissom returned his perplexed look with a smile of his own, one of amusement, as opposed to comfort. "I want to make sure you get home okay."

Greg frowned at the comment, but was unable to voice his own opinion as he left, wandering out into the hall. He was now left alone to his thoughts, which although he had taken comfort in them before, they now were shrouded in apprehension of what the future would bring.

* * *

It had only been a few hours, not even quite half of a full shift, but to Sara, whose nerves were on the end, it seemed quite like forever. Her attention was on her original case, pushing the newest one to the side despite a high-ended argument between her and the victim's sister. She had nearly blown up upon hearing that case had been pushed back, prompting a quick departure out of the building along with several security guards.

Sara made a mental note to check into all that later. Ecklie's demands were fairly unreasonable, and she didn't want to take chances of crossing paths with him again, before it was necessary. It wouldn't take long for word to spread, and he would be poking his nose in the matter. She would be willing to take part of the blame.

Sara knew the matter could have been resolved if she reported Greg that day. Even how much she hated the thought, the truth would have been found out. She knew truthfully that Greg wasn't hooked on drugs, and with that option cleared the only reasonable explanation was that Greg was truly hurting. She should have seen it herself, and perhaps approached everything in a different manner.

It was late by the time she finished the last of the report, closing the cover of the auburn folder. She pulled her hair from her face, standing to her feet with a relieving sigh. With the folder tucked under her arm she headed out into the hall, focused on path in front of her. All she wanted to do now was drop the report off on Ecklie's desk, and head home.

Of course, she had other plans, ones that included stopping by Greg's place. She was anxious to see him; most of her thoughts had been about his condition during the night hours. She would sacrifice hours in order to do so, and work would be hell the next day, but she was willing to trudge through it all.

Up ahead she caught Warrick's eye, and he waved her in the room, a silent motion before turning back to his own work. Sara paused, hesitating, already knowing what he would ask. It probably would be the best to keep on walking, pretend that she hadn't heard him. It was too late for that…she leaned against the door frame, quiet, and composed, watching him work.

"You headed out already?"

Sara nodded, before speaking up, knowing he wasn't watching her. The silence was uncomfortable; Sara hoped he would hurry it along; standing here wasn't something she wanted to do all night.

"You tell him that I hope he feels better?" He glanced up to see if she would follow through or not.

Sara shifted, moving most of her weight to one foot. "And you can't tell him that because?"

"I'm working," he replied bluntly, "I d don't exactly have the luxury to leave like you do, I'm still swamped from this case."

"You wouldn't be if you had let Greg help."

He looked up quickly, his expression becoming stern. "Whatever Greg told you was probably a lie," he stated, in his own defense. It brought a short smile to her lips.

"Greg didn't say anything. Grissom did, it was part of my report." She flashed him the folder, feeling somewhat smug.

"You finished?"

She nodded, taking in a breath. "Faulty equipment; the ropes were fraying, and one of the hooks gave out. Everything should have been pulled through the last rotation. There really wasn't anything Greg could do."

Warrick considered this for a moment, feeling very much like someone had slapped him in the face. Part of him knew he had been wrong from the start, but never really thought about putting an end to it all. He glanced back up as Sara started talking again.

"I also made a note in the report that Greg was hurt in the investigation, and that you failed to take proper action."

"You can't pin that on me," Warrick argued. "If he doesn't say anything, how am I supposed to know?"

Sara shook her head, her eyes shifting down. She had been prepared for a question of some sorts. Her voice was soft as she answered, "Did you ever, once, stop and ask him if he was okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but found himself at a loss for words as he realized her point. Slowly he shook his head, clearing his throat. "No…I guess I didn't."

"You were so wrapped up in finding someone to blame, you could no longer see what was really there," she told him quietly, "That's part of your job as the lead, it's not always easy. Next time something happens, think about what you're going to do before it's done."

She didn't wait for him to answer, keeping a steady, yet slow, pace as she made her way to Ecklie's office. His door was ajar, and she found the small space empty, which didn't really surprise her. Everyone was pulling overtime, and instead of offering a hand in anything he had just gone home. It was a brief smile, one that didn't last long, and she slipped the folder on his desk, making sure to close the door behind her.

* * *

There had been no answer when she first knocked, and the absence of lights inside would suggest that no one was there. Sara tried again, knowing where he had hid the spare key, if things came to that. There was a wind blowing, ruffling her hair as she strode out to the railing and back, a sort of pacing. As tired as she was it was the only thing that was keeping her awake.

Frowning she made her way back, slipping her fingers inside the broken wall light, brushing the metal that was inside. In order to accomplish this, she had to stand on her tiptoes, with her one arm stretched above her head. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to grab the small key inside, pulling it free.

She muttered a few brief curses as she unlocked the door. Greg would need to find a better hiding spot. It was almost as dark inside the apartment as it was outside; the only light source was a small lamp, sitting on the counter near the couch.

Sara had been to Greg's place a few times before, and knew her way around well enough. Although she had to stop and survey Greg's place before moving on. It was no cleaner than hers, with newspapers and bills piled on the counter, something he would take care of when he got the time. Several shirts lay strewn across the sofa, his shoes tossed against the side of the wall.

Sara made her way cautiously down the hall, one hand along the wall for balance until she reached Greg's bedroom, peeking in cautiously. In the darkness she could see his sleeping form, encased in blankets up to his shoulders. His back was towards her, but there wasn't enough light to see much else. She wondered then what Greg slept in exactly, faltering when a thought crossed her mind.

Praying that he was at least halfway dressed she made her way into the room, fumbling for the lamp she knew Greg kept near his bed. She let out a breath, her fingers wrapping around the small cord, easing herself down on the bed behind him as the light filled the room.

He was fast asleep, and she watched him, taking note of the cast on his arm, and the bottles that sat on the nightstand just beyond him. Sara placed a hand on his forehead carefully, before reaching over him to grasp the bottles. Grissom had told her something along the lines of an infection, but he didn't seem to be doing to bad.

She felt the bed move, and she glanced down as he shifted, coughing as he moved around. For the first few minutes he was quiet, his eyes blinking open as he glanced around, before finally settling on her.

"I must be dreaming," he said warily, reaching up with his good arm to place a hand on her arm. He let out a breath, as she wrapped her hand around his. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see how you were doing," she answered simply, "make sure you're okay."

He raised an eyebrow, fighting off a yawn. "Grissom sent you, didn't he?"

"No," she shook her head, "But he did want me to make sure you took your medications," she shook the bottle in her hand, the pills rattling inside.

His response was a groan as he let go of her hand, rolling over once again to face away from her. "You woke me up for that?"

"Actually, I had planned on letting you sleep longer, but since you're up now." Without waiting for an invitation, she slipped off the bed, striding into the bathroom across the hall. From here she could hear the muttered curses that came from Greg, watching from the corner of her eye as he worked on sitting up.

This was how they found themselves facing one another, with Greg leaning back against the headboard and Sara supporting her own weight, silent as he finished the rest of the water she had brought him earlier.

"How are you doing?" she pressed, her arms crossed on her lap as she leaned forward.

Greg shifted, moving his legs to the side so that she could move in closer, and not be so close to the edge. "I've had better days," he said calmly, maybe a bit groggily, "other than that, not too bad. I can't really feel anything."

"Not yet," Sara nodded towards him. "What did Grissom say to you?"

He laughed, a short huff more or less, "A lot of which I won't repeat." Indeed the conversation had gone on, and though Grissom hadn't exactly raised his tone, it wasn't needed. The man had a way of getting under your skin easily.

Greg waited until she finished chuckling at his last comment, grateful for her company. "He wants to put me in therapy."

Sara watched him skeptically, as if she hadn't heard him correctly. Greg laughed, nervously this time as he went on to explain. "He thinks I'm self-doubting myself, and straining my mind…his words, not mine."

Sara nodded, considering the issue lightly. "I think it'll help."

"Don't tell me you agree with him," Greg frowned, irritated now. "I was hoping you would convince him otherwise."

She gave him a gentle smile, not wanting to start a fight here and now. "You'd be surprised what it can do. You don't have to be crazy Greg, just sometimes; you need someone to talk to."

"Like you've ever gone to a shrink," he kidded lightly, rolling his eyes.

"We all have our secrets," Sara shrugged at his surprised gaze, moving quickly to change the topic. "How come you didn't say anything?"

His eyes drifted down, no longer watching her as he fingered his cast gently, tugging at the edges. "I thought about it…I really did try to say something a few different times. I guess every time I tried, I was just reminded that I screwed up…"

He took a breath here, pausing as he regained his voice. "I could have really hurt you, and maybe if I was paying better attention, then maybe, I don't know, none of it would have happened."

"Greg…" Sara's voice faltered, as she reached across, grasping his hand that was pulling at his cast. She held it firmly, as she moved up along side of him. "It wasn't your fault."

She was quick to explain what had happened, watching his expressions as she related the story. He didn't reply when she finished, and they found themselves surrounded by the silence. She gave his hand a quick squeeze, more than ready to break the stillness. "You did all that you could; your broken arm shows that. If it wasn't for you, I could have been seriously hurt. You stopped the rope, without once thinking of your own well being. That's pretty brave if you ask me."

Greg rolled his eyes, laughing softly. "I wouldn't say that it was brave, more of stupid. I wasn't even thinking, I just was trying to do something."

She smiled, brushing a finger over his red cheek, one that was flushed from more than a slight fever. "I'm going to head home now; I'll stop by tomorrow though."

Standing up she found that she could not go far, as Greg still had her by the hand. His look was almost pleading, as he pulled her back down on the bed. "Stay?"

Although it was tempting, she wanted to argue. She was exhausted, and it didn't take much to tell that he was very much the same. Neither of them would benefit if she remained here. Still, how could she refuse the innocent look he was playing on her?

"Just for a bit longer," he pleaded, "we haven't really talked in a while."

Sara cursed herself mentally for giving in, for being so weak, as she made herself comfortable one more time on the end of the bed. They found themselves talking, throughout most of the night, and by morning, all that could be seen was the sleeping pair.

* * *

"I understand why I'm gone for a day, for not reporting what I found," Sara said slowly, her arms crossed as she faced the wall, "What I'm still trying to figure out is why Warrick was suspended for three days."

"Are you disappointed?" Grissom inquired, not taking his eyes off the computer screen.

She glanced at him wryly, without really turning around. Several days had passed since she had handed in the report, and Ecklie hadn't waited long to dish out the consequences. She was gone for a day, Warrick for three, and Greg for a week, though it was on medical leave, and not suspension. Grissom had been able to convince Ecklie that Greg had gone through enough of a punishment already.

"I thought I would be happy if he was, but now that I really think about it, I can't really blame him. I thought he would get a warning, maybe a day…but three? He's right, you know, it isn't really his fault that Greg didn't say anything about being hurt."

"If it makes you feel any better, that's not why he was suspended," Grissom told her, "It was how he handled the situation. Giving Greg a hard time wasn't the solution to the problem. Greg's reaction to that may be what caused him to remain quiet, but that was his own choice."

She drew in a breath, turning towards him now. "I think we expect too much out of him. We push him, and he's not willing to stand up for himself."

"Are you saying he can't do the job?" Grissom wondered, curious now.

"I think he does a fine job," Sara interjected, "but I think we forget that he's just a rookie. We've known him for years, so we think he's on the same level as us, but he's still learning. He's learning the hours, and the work…that's a lot to take in at once. And we make it harder by asking more out of him, more than he can really give."

Grissom nodded, impressed by her observations. He hadn't stopped to really think of it in that way, but realized that she was right. Exiting out of the programs, he made sure his computer was shutting down before standing, gathering his things. Sara had already left, giving him these thoughts to mull over. He already had enough worries on how he was going to handle the next several days.

* * *

Warrick had waited in his car for the longest time, trying to muster up the courage, and an excuse. Whatever he came up with only sounded worse than what had before, and it took this long for him to realize that he only had the truth to give. It hadn't been easy, to get the courage to come out here, not only did he not know where Greg lived, but it wasn't easy for him to admit that he was wrong.

Taking in a deep breath he pushed the door open, stepping out into the warm air. It was going to be another scorcher today, and it was only in the morning. He glanced down at the slip of paper he held in his hand, reading the address, one more time, make sure he had the right door.

Still, he waited, once standing there. He shuffled from one foot to the other, before fisting his hand and knocking. When no answer came at first, Warrick was ready to take the moment to leave. Before he could, the door eased open, and he found himself face to face with Greg, who seemed somewhat surprised to see him there.

"Hey man," Warrick muttered, lifting a hand in a small wave.

Greg returned his greeting, still watching him, as if waiting for him to speak. Warrick felt like an idiot now, standing there, his mind completely blank as opposed to before. "I um...I need to talk…"

"That depends," Greg returned, his voice flat. "Are you going to talk, or yell?"

Warrick nodded briefly, glancing down towards his feet. "I deserved that."

Greg backed away, leaving the door open as invitation. Warrick followed after a moment's hesitation, closing it after passing through. He took a moment, to survey the place. Although it was small, it seemed nice, comfortable he supposed. Treading inside further he found Greg in the kitchen, working with one hand to pull a cup out of the cupboard above his head, his other arm resting easy in a sling.

"You want some coffee?"

"No…I'm okay," Warrick shook his head. "How are you doing?"

"I should carry around a sign that reads 'I'm fine'," Greg joked lightly, grasping the coffee pot. "Everyone sounds like a broken record."

Warrick gave a brief smile, amazed at his attempt at humor. He figured quietly that Greg couldn't be too bad off if he was able to joke around. It was what he was good at. Leaning against the counter he watched him, though the younger man refused to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry, about everything that happened," Warrick told him, feeling somewhat better now. "I was wrong."

Greg shrugged, taking another sip. "Is that all you have to say?"

Warrick nodded, knowing that Greg not only needed an explanation, but deserved one as well. "Sometimes you make a mistake, and no matter what you say or do, you can't change it."

"Holly Gribbs," Greg said quietly, earning another nod from Warrick.

"It was a mistake, I didn't follow procedure, it was more of a game I guess. I gambled with a life, and I lost. I'd hate to see the same thing happen again."

Greg didn't respond this time, leaving Warrick to continue on. "I realized that I was wrong, but I was too proud to admit it. Things got out of hand…I know I failed you as a supervisor. But I also failed you as a friend…if I had looked closer, I could have seen what was really going on. I'm sorry I didn't figure that out sooner."

"I wasn't much help either," Greg admitted, watching him now. "I guess we were all a little too proud."

Warrick nodded, meeting his gaze. "So…you think we can call a truce, start over again?"

He considered it for a moment, before nodding. "That sounds nice…" he lifted his arm a little, "I wish we could take everything back."

"You'll be okay," Warrick told him, "In a few months; it'll be like nothing ever happened." He gripped the counter gently, the silence stretching between him. Greg made no move to say anything, only sipping at his coffee, and Warrick was out of words to say.

This went on for a while longer, until Warrick shifted, spreading his hands out to his side. "I guess I'll be headed out now…get my rest while I can. Catching up is going to be rough."

Greg only nodded, placing his empty cup down next the sink as the other left. He waited until he heard the door close, before lifting his gaze, watching down the hall as she came out. Returning her smile he nodded, giving her the okay sign with his fingers.

It hadn't taken long to figure out that it was Warrick at the door, to which Sara had decided it was best to leave the two men alone. She had, as promised, returned the next day, as well as the one after, spending her evenings with Greg. There wasn't anything going on between, at least not yet. Tonight…tonight would be a different story. With her 'day off' the lab wasn't expecting her in anytime soon.

Whatever happened tonight, would be a different story to tell.

**The End**


End file.
